Glimmer of a Radiant Paradise
by Raelightuponfire
Summary: Time for a Rewrite! Rewritten to follow the new plot points, exactly four years after the first "Paradise" fic. I looked back at the original and was horrified. This is not a love story.


This took two days to correct. This is why Rae doesn't write for fun anymore.  
The second to last part is choppy like Jack's thoughts.  
I started the first part of this as a response to another writer ( **kayori88** ) who did Glen's perspective.  
Rewritten for its four year anniversary + the final chapter was released in Japan in the spring of 2015.

_

I am a mask.

My smiles, once full of promise and light, now hide only insensitive madness.

My loyalty, full of love once stained more beautiful with sacrifice, now only hides a numb assassin's plot.

An irony for all my years. Once so beautiful, so sweet.

Love, why don't you tell me, though your lips are so cold, are we still friends?

Never again will my kisses release you, while I hold on to another dear life.

Never again will my smiles be clear. Neither happy for you, nor a pure joy in me.

Let us play this odd game: you the victim, I the executioner.

Can you hear me, can you hear me?

I thought not,

Never again.

.

It was radiant and hazy outside, the glass of the library's high narrow windows fogged up from the humid heat.  
The fresh green leaves of the tree, behind the cloudy sheen, sent dazzling flecks of sunlight into the otherwise solemn room.

The dark master was set to work on something at the desk facing the wall, as he always was. He strained to get it finished so he could move on to something else outside of the dull room.  
The walls were the same lifeless grey as the pave stones outside, and the rectangle windows lining the upper parts of the walls over the high shelves encased the master in the space. It was as though it was designed to keep him more entertained with the parchment in front of him than the dull atmosphere, which would have regularly put him to sleep as a child.

He glanced up at a word, and a glint of gold caught his eyes and lifted them off the page, as he turned the paper so he could write the next line better.  
"Jack."

The braid of gold shone out incredibly, the light making it stand out with the natural luster that had stunned everyone in the past. Jack stood a few feet away from Glen, leaning back against the bookshelf beside him with a rather large book to his midriff. He held it casually as he looked over the pages with slow, insincere fascination.

His eyes didn't lift as Glen had expected them to; instead he continued reading, not even attempting to lean out of the sunlight, "Glen?"  
His eyes lowered slightly with his face, out of Glen's sight, trying to concentrate on the words he was deciphering. His auburn friend was clearly related to its author.

"Nothing." Glen turned his eyes back to the paper, having recalled his train of thought.  
Jack turned a page in the extensive chapter.  
Glen looked up again. The halo of hair around Jack's face was all that he could see, as the calm form lounged, looking into the pages after words that were morbidly black.  
Glen smiled softly. It was only a small thing, since this was not the first time he'd seen Jack so quiet; it was that only he had seen him this way, apart from Lacie. He doubted even his master, the previous Glen, had known this quiet stranger.

"Is that book interesting?"  
Glen scratched out another long list of politically polite words on the parchment, his eyes not looking up as Jack replied, disinterested as he was, "It is interesting enough, until you're finished, Glen."  
And continued on, shifting his arms to turn the next page.  
Glen caught a breath as he prepared to stop Jack from continuously repeating his name, it was grinding on his nerves. But then he remembered that Jack had almost slipped his true name in front of Duke Nightray, of all people. In repentance, he supposed, Jack was overcompensating.

"Just be patient. I'm almost done with this letter at least." He assured him.  
Jack waved his hand in recognition of what Glen said, though it was obvious he didn't believe him as his face remained turned to the pages. Glen smiled again, the sound of his rare smirk becoming airborne, as Jack still concentrated on the book. Finally, it seemed, Jack had had enough of the endless silence.  
"Glen, why are there so many notices? Surely the dukes can wait a few days, they are your loyal vassals."  
Glen frowned at this, his dark eyes retaining his status in hurt, though he continued to conclude the letter with a few choice words instead of the lengthy address they had left in theirs.  
"It's their obligation to inform me of any changes they make. I have to sign off my approval, otherwise I'll be oblivious. I will not make this house look callous."  
He didn't remove his eyes from the page, even if it was just a simple declaration.

A loud hollow cough caught Glen off guard. Perhaps the book was harder to shut than it had seemed. Jack had turned, his eyes still bored from the endless amounts of grey, his hand holding the binding of the book closed tightly after shutting it so roughly.  
Glen's eyes had come up immediately, watching Jack as his friend's eyebrow lifted, a friendly smile following after another moment, "I understand, Glen. I'm merely making a complaint."  
Lightly, Jack's fingers guided the book back into its higher place on the shelf, his braid flowing as he made the turn away. Slowly he turned, leaning back in his place, his eyes showing he was undeniably lost on what to do next.

Glen had looked down again, carelessly placing the final period in the letter, and smoothed it to the side.  
He tapped the pen lightly back into its well with finality, still not looking up, "I have to take a break regardless, Jack. If you want, I can have some of the maids can set out a picnic for the little girl, and you can join her while I see that the servants are fed."  
His eyes at last raised, the violet flickering to connect with the green.

Jack had sat up, and his eyes lifted. His tone was lighthearted though his chest was tight, "Which of the girls?"  
Glen paused stoically, his eyes watching Jack's until they turned to finish putting the rest of the letters away.  
"Why that look? Certainly they're good company, whichever one comes."  
Jack smiled, settling back self-consciously. He looked down, tired from just thinking about it.  
"I suppose… But one is much nicer."

Glen nodded thoughtfully at Jack's discomfort towards the first Alice, the most conniving of the strange twins. She wore out Jack better than anyone could, much to Jack's own distaste, and if people had known about Alice they would have been glad to have her. It was thanks to her that they gained some peace and quiet.  
But, there was the other twin who adored Jack. For her Glen was thankful, since she made Jack seem truly happy for that short time. Even if she hated him for getting too close to her golden friend.

"Master."  
Both pairs of eyes looked the way the voice came, lowering by the doorway where the small child had appeared. Jack watched the small servant come forward, the child knowing that Glen was kinder than he appeared to others. His quiet nature still tended to shock any outsider who came into Glen's private life, besides Jack.  
It had been a rare chance entirely that he'd found that out on the evening they'd met.  
Oswald's voice had been strong, but his eyes hadn't looked at his until he'd been invited.

The small servant came close to Jack, passing him as he made his way to the side of Glen's seat, "Master, luncheon is out. The maids tried to fill up the added meals, as you asked."  
Glen smiled again, reaching out to muss the servant's hair, which Jack had always wanted to run a brush through, "Thank you Gilbert. And as I told you, you can choose to call me Glen."  
Gil hesitantly looked towards the other man in the room, and no wonder, as Jack's look of bewilderment was almost ridiculous. Glen wondered why he was surprised, since it was he who'd inspired this. Gil's eyes slowly traveled back to Glen's, as a small smile claimed the cute servant.  
"Master."  
Glen laughed easily then, though it was barely more than a chuckle, "Fine, then. Do as you're told. We will be out in a moment."

After Gil had made his way out to the attending servants, Glen came out from behind his desk. His smile was gone, but he was watching, making sure that Jack would follow him as usual.  
After a moment of silence, his eyes turned downward, raising them again as he went to follow after Gil.  
Quietly, Jack turned his eyes back up to the book he'd slipped back into the grey, the bright cover the only vibrant color in the place. The sun shone on the coat and through the gold of his hair as he turned quickly to catch up to Glen, who was now stepping out into the hall. He was no longer worried that Jack would soon be by his side.

.

_

"Jack, are you feeling well?"

Jack was leaning against the leather chair later that evening, his braid hanging to his thighs. His legs were partially relaxed from their place out of the seat, and his eyes were drooped heavily. His lips moved solemnly, yet free from care, "I'm well."  
The Glen watched the falling lids of his friend, careful though to not splotch the page with his momentary hesitation. His eyes watched Jack carefully, his eyes never leaving his face. His pen stayed motionless just above the parchment. "Are you?"

Jack adjusted his head as it laid back against the headrest, not looking very exhausted, but tired nonetheless.  
He wasn't going to answer.  
Glen tapped his pen back into the well after a moment of this quiet. Jack wouldn't be a distraction while asleep, he knew. But Glen's concern was Jack sleeping in such an uncomfortable position- he would wake up with a sore neck.

"Jack," He said gently, walking over to his friend, and he touched on his shoulder to wake him.  
Jack's eyes opened after a moment, his eyebrows rising at Glen's firm touch, "Yes?"  
Glen earnestly looked down at Jack's firm eyes, and Jack's were drawn up to the pure violet of Glen's. Jack did have the perfect view, and the depths of the color had a transfixing affect, just like Glen's sister's.  
"Jack, please. You shouldn't sleep here."

Jack sighed, and sat up, trying his best to appear normal, "Then I won't sleep."  
He said lightly, but his face was soon akin to being lifeless.  
Calmly, he placed his hands on the armrests beside him and took in a breath. But Glen could see that it was not effortless.  
Quickly Glen offered a solution, "Come, there's another place you can rest. It was intended for regal visits, but no one stays there. It's about time it was occupied."  
Softly, as Glen touched his back, Jack subsided and lifted himself, settling into a silent walk as Glen guided him out of the room. Glen even came close to his side after a minute.

Through the marble-floored hall, about a few feet away, a well-furnished arch led into a quiet room. It, like the room before, was lit brilliantly by the setting sunlight outside. Traces of large trees caught the sunlight in their leaves in front of the window, casting shadows on the floor.  
Jack looked around, moving a step towards the window, when he felt Glen's hands at his shoulders again, and his voice came again.  
"Let me. After all, this has been outside and gotten dirty."  
Jack nodded easily, tucking his shoulders back as his coat was taken off, taken back to the study. He moved forward then, coming to peer out into that sunlight. He admired the beautiful colors of the miniature woods that afforded guests that all important privacy.

Jack turned around, and realizing that he was left alone after a quick sweep of his eyes, he slowly reached up and worked at the buttons of his vest. He supposed he was already breaking a large rule, so why not break a smaller. Plus, his shirt was tight and stiff. The tailor must have made a mismeasurement to make them both that small… though he knew he couldn't complain.  
He smiled at the uncomfortable touch of the luxury fabric, and with little effort he managed to get the vest off, laying it gently on the chair nearest to him.  
His eyes traced the bed for any signs of wear or dust as he unbuttoned his shirt, but as usual for the most powerful house, not a single spot was left to even normal standards of clean. He wondered at their houses perfection.  
Tightly, he pulled on his cuffs, the buttons already undone. At least his afternoon with the wrong Alice had gained him a moment of respite.

He rested, finally, falling into the bed, shifting until he lay just before the pillows. His heavy braid rested comfortably between his shoulder blades as he settled.  
The luxury was cold against his chest at first, and he laid his cheek to the warming fabric for a few gentle moments.

The door opened then, and Jack didn't lift his head. He guessed it was probably Glen making sure no one had found him in there yet.

"Jack, may I ask to join you?"  
Jack's eyes opened, surprised. He turned slowly, seeing Glen at the door. His eyes looked about as tired as his. They even looked sad.  
Jack smiled, knowing better than most that Glen was in need of sleep. "Of course! I'm here stealing your luxury for my own comfort, anyways."  
He laughed for a moment before stretching, settling again as he rested his chin into the fabric.

Silence continued, though after a moment a familiar shuffling came, that finally settled with a pressure at the side of the bed. Slowly, Jack felt Glen turn, and the bed shuddered with his shiver.  
The slow movement that followed confused him as suddenly skin was felt at his side: Glen's back.  
"It is cold." He softly gave as his excuse.  
Jack's already opened eyes looked beside him, his head turning as well to see the skin of his friend at his side. He decided not to bring up the fact that Glen wasn't wearing a shirt, and he tried to find a way around it.  
"The sheets are warm once you get into them."

Glen answered back easily, his voice clear but still sad.  
He breathed his words, "Your skin is warm already, so why not stay by you?"  
Jack sighed, and hesitantly allowed his chin to settle back to its nearly original place. "Fair enough."  
Suddenly he felt the pressure lift, and slowly arms came around under his chest. He felt Glen settle on top of him. Jack's eyes had already opened again in strangely mild surprise.  
"Glen…"

He felt the skin on his back shift, and he felt Glen's neck to the back of his own. Glen's lips brushed against his jaw as he rested his cheek against his, and his hair tickled him. But he shrugged at the shiver, not wanting to encourage him.  
It was Glen's turn to speak, and he knew it.  
"Jack…"

He said softly. Glen knew he'd surprised Jack, but the press of his lips to Jack's neck stunned him further.  
"Please understand me… I cannot just have you at the polite length anymore.  
Surely, since you have guessed, you would have left long ago if you didn't feel something similar. And if that is true… then be forever confident in your belief that you are dearest to me."

Slowly, the hands reached around his waist, tugging tightly at the waist of the pants, exposing more skin.  
Jack stressed though, his own muscles pushing against Glen's, "Glen, wait."  
Jack felt Glen relax then, and slowly Jack relaxed as well.  
Quickly he returned, "… I care about you, Glen. But dearly as a friend."  
Glen didn't lift, but he was quiet.  
"Of course you would say that..."  
Jack frowned, and with his own hands pressing against Glen's, he tried again to push Glen off. Glen subsided, laying right to his side, his arm holding him up so he could see his friend. Jack lifted himself up to face him.

"What is this?" Jack asked quietly.  
He bit his lip, though his eyes came up, watching Glen.  
Glen looked back at him. He was not hostile, not mad. Not even sad anymore.  
They watched him, as they had always done. Though now they searched his eyes with a different concern. It was another question that Jack's stark eyes could not placate.  
Then Glen's lips moved, his purple eyes glancing away.  
"I… can't say that I am happy just being the way we are. Close, but never together. You did know, didn't you? I cannot hide as well as..."  
Glen left his thought unfinished. Jack's eyes slowly became soft, quiet, and they looked away as well while Glen was talking. He'd made his decision though, long before his suspicions were confirmed.  
"…And so, am I supposed to say something now?"  
Glen leaned forward then, shifting so that they were closer, "Please."

Jack leaned forward shyly, catching Glen off guard.  
"Then, if you are sure, there's nothing else I want. I care for you, but forgive me if I'm surprised you've felt the same."  
Glen's eyes were hesitant, but at the same time, Jack sensed something else that he'd never seen challenging him from within.  
"Then…"  
The bright green eyes stared back, his hair bright as though he were an angel as others had gossiped. Then he softly smiled.  
"Yes, you were right. I was waiting for you, Glen."  
He leaned back, lying on the comforter, watching Glen.  
The specter watched him as well, but slowly Jack could see the energy in his eyes growing, his emotions breaking through and becoming all too vulnerable.

Glen leaned forward and with a silence that suggested simplicity, and touched his lips calmly, through pressingly, to Jack's forehead. His bangs once again tickled Jack so that Jack's lips below formed an instant smile.  
Lightly, below Glen, the fingers came up, touching his cheek with the warmth that he had tried to obtain.  
Jack's hand relaxed around Glen's cheek, and lightly became more stressed, holding him.  
Gently Glen settled on him, skin to skin, and now their eyes could watch each other. They'd both made decisions, though neither had made the same one.  
Without much more of a concern, the purple eyes came forward, and his hungry lips grasped at the ones below, though even now Jack was resisting the other's passion.  
Jack's hands pressed against him, but the Glen's arms relaxed around him, knowing that he was not going to be pushed away again unless it was absolutely necessary.  
But it was, as Jack pushed up again, breaking the kiss.  
"We can't, the others will notice and come to check on you."  
Glen's eyes were certain, and he leaned forward again, trying to persuade Jack.  
Jack resisted still, his face serious as he tried to reason with that gentle gaze. For a few minutes, they both waited in silence. Slowly though, with time, Jack gave in.

That endless sea of pillows on the bed was annoying, as Jack had once observed in another bed not long ago. And they bent to the chaotic flow of the sheets, light and cool, from where the heavy top comforter had been twisted until they'd appeared, dark red.  
Hadn't the Baskervilles always had the same color scheme with everything?  
They didn't bother with the sheets, it was too tiresome, but eventually the pillows provided a strange shield.  
If anyone came in their secret would be more than discovered, though. Anyone who entered through that locked door would have undoubtedly seen the two figures close together, slowly losing energy in each other's embrace.

.

An hour later, Glen relaxed finally, already back in his regular clothes. The purple of his vest was the only difference between his colors and the rest of the household's.  
Jack's vest was tight around his chest again, the billows of the ascot overflowing from it, and his golden braid was as carefully placed as usual. He'd had Glen's help since it was so long, and Glen still sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hands.  
The strands that were always loose, though carefully flowing around his eyes, shifted lightly with the motion of air as Jack turned to fix his jacket's collar around his throat.  
Charmingly suspicious as usual, he stood, turning himself slowly so that the fabric fixed itself to his true shape, and the bright eyes rested back on his partner.

"Your servant will be looking for you," He said lightly, coming over to better shape the collar of his friend's coat; it was upturned behind his nape, "If he doesn't find you, he'll probably cause a panic."  
Glen nodded, and lifted off the side of the bed, almost walking straight into Jack's busy hands, "Then we have to go."

He turned away, but a smile was shadowing his lips. A soft smile came back to him, light and settled. Jack came behind him, pretending as he was that things were still the same, since now was his normal time to leave. He left when the sun had set below the horizon, just as usual, though no doubt the secret entrance would be more useful than before.  
Any given evening Jack was likely to be found with Glen holding him close, as the light he had taken up in his trade was silently snuffed out by the exhaustion of their breaths.

A couple weeks later Gil moved through the silent marble halls, listening for his master.  
It was early, but it was better that he greeted him first. More news was underway from the dukes. As he walked past he heard a rustle from the study, and ran quickly to the large trimmed doors.  
Silently, in the dark of the hallway, he pushed the cracked door open. Though the study had grand doors, it was small, and so the dim fire of a host of candles flooded him with their power. The cascade of light glowed across the floor behind him.  
Glen was scratching out something in another letter, frustrated as his hand worked, the small pile of letters and documents sitting silently as the matter was corrected.  
Jack leaned with his back nearly against the bookshelves that he steadied himself with against the far wall, his stance seeming worn and exhausted by a sleepless night.

Jack pressed his fingers to his temple as though stressed, when the small creak of the door turned both men's attentions to the small servant.  
Surprised to find them both in the study so early, Gil slowly made his way forward, unconfident in his movements. Only a few steps from the door, he stopped. Unsure of what he was supposed to do now that he'd found his master awake, already working.  
Slowly, his eyes turned to the exhausted Jack, his eyes weary as he looked to the ground, his braid glimmering in the dull light.  
"Are you tired, Mister Jack?"  
Gil asked softly, the green eyes coming up immediately as he said it. Jack laughed nervously, though quiet from his exhaustion.  
He settled himself solidly into a less limp stance, "Nope. I'm fine, Gilbert. It's too early for you to be up, though."  
His eyes seemed to glimmer even with his wear, and calmly he stood, coming over to offer the boy his hand, "You have done what you were sent to do? Don't worry, if you're tired, I'll keep an eye on him so you can go back to sleep."  
Gil looked at the hand tentatively, and looked over to Glen, who still worked continuously. He didn't need to worry about Gilbert as long as Jack was there.  
Gil shook his head quietly, his eyes turning away to the ground.  
Jack's hand faltered for a moment, and settled back at his side. Though the small smile was still there, unsurprised by Gil's rejection.  
Slowly though, Gil's eyes looked tentatively up again, searching Jack's eyes for traces of malice. But instead the green reflection remained the same, waiting for him to decide that he was just a harmless man, wanting his acceptance.  
Gil moved forward then, his fingers resting on Jack's palm for a moment, as Jack watched in wonder. And slowly their fingers intertwined, Jack leading the young boy over to the bookshelf so he could rest against it again. The child rested his back against Jack's thigh, watching Glen as he scratched at the work in front of them, the fire from the candle bathing them in light.

"Jack!" The emerald eyes didn't waver as his tiny friend moved back, allowing him to sit up again, if only he were fully aware enough to do so.  
"I swear, I didn't think the tree would drop you. It looked strong!" The gold eye and red eye were filled with tears, not understanding that Jack was mad at the sheer fact that he had done this several times before, and never learned.  
It took him a minute to reappear in the moment, his hand coming up to the familiar hurt under his imperfect strands, the bumps in the braid concealing the new small one that lay beneath.  
"Ow."  
He said lightly, though his face was pained. His head wasn't the only thing bruised, but he wasn't about to upset the child more.  
The wrong Alice, too, was at his side, her grin at once making Jack jump in his place, though he was used to taunting.  
"You crybaby, it's his own fault. Or rather," She got a better idea, and Jack's face went white at the smile she gave, "This is _entirely_ your fault. He'll probably collapse later today, and you'll have to endure Glen's suffering from his death. See, look at how pale he is!"  
Vincent, never before one to cry, immediately wept harder. His brother was elsewhere, attending to Glen, and therefore unable to help him.  
"He's dead, he's dead, and it's your entire fault!" She laughed.  
Jack tried to console Vince through her taunt, "I'm perfectly fine, really, Alice..."  
He laughed nervously at Alice's ecstatic chants. Jack leaned forward then, his hand quick to try and grab her as she danced around them, but she darted out of his way.  
Vincent was now coming forward to grasp at Jack's face and hair, trying to see that Jack was fine, though he seemed convinced otherwise thanks to Alice.  
Hadn't he warned Glen of this many times before? And still in the morning flickering of the candle he'd asked him to entertain Alice until he joined them.  
His eyes were gentle as he led Vincent closer, brushing back the messy bangs on his forehead, as Vincent held his head still in a pleading gaze.  
"Come now, don't think of me being so fragile."  
He chuckled, his fingers brushing at the softness of the skin, the child's tears still fresh on his cheeks.  
Jack leaned in then, his eyes allowing the child to peer in, calming him. "I'm not dying. Don't listen to Alice, Vince. Show her how strong you are, and make her listen to you."  
He chuckled at the child's approaching smile, devious as it may have been, and the child leaned back, turning out of Jack's reach to go after Alice, throwing his own taunts at her.

Jack's eyes suddenly saw movement, and he saw Glen standing under the walk, watching them with an emotionless gaze. Jack smiled, finally seeing him away from the silence of his study, though he seemed weighed with the work.  
Gradually, the violet eyes stared straight into his, coming to him from his distance, a small smile of his own forming as the children saw him, each running in a frenzy to grasp at his legs. Though he'd asked Jack not to let Alice out of the Tower, it was a beautiful day, and she was being watched. He let it go for that once.  
The sunlight was still streaming, radiant, as it caught on their hair and turned Glen's raven strands light. Jack came closer, reaching out gently, catching the light in his hands as they closed around his mate's, the heat of Glen's throat was warm as Jack rested his head under it for only a moment.

_

.

Years before, on a snowy day…  
Lacie had been gone.

He was gone, too. And yet he still lived for months after.  
Wretched as it was, he had lived an early life without Her… And when his hopes were finally renewed, when he'd finally found Her and been given the confidence of time… She was gone again.  
Glen's confidence. That was the very thing he was counting on.  
But he thought it was a foolish thing to have, confidence. Time and time again people left and hurt and killed each other. All certainty had dissolved for him, and he had dissolved along with it. Things broke, and Jack took their pieces and made them into pretty music boxes. Things could be broken and made better, but people…  
But Jack…

.

Oh, but Jack…

He could never be.  
So, ironically, he had confidence in that.

It had been hours since Oswald had told him she was dead, and nothing else seemed to register. His thoughts were disconnected as he lay in silence. Even the time was unknown, but late. Too late. He closed his eyes, prepared to sleep through it all.

"Jack, I'm lonely…" She called in his dreams. Right from her memory, from the memory of hers that he had seen, " _Jack! I'm alone!_ " He could feel her at his ear again, whispering these words, and then screaming. Her voice broke to yelling, cursing his name that he could not come to her. His own cry shocked him awake, and immediately he reached up to his shoulder, lifting his fingers to the voice that he heard behind him- and grasping nothing.  
He laid his back against the bed, and remained like that. Distant from all the maids offering him his meals and baths, and he barely spoke to them.  
He never saw anyone else during that endless cycle- until that Baskerville decided to end it. He hadn't gotten a satisfying ending, Jack supposed.  
He didn't know what had come over Levi to tell him things that were so forbidden. Didn't he know that Jack was gone? He, testing him once, had also kissed him. But no shock or disgust, lust or love, showed through. No emotion at all registered in his eyes when Levi broke it. Jack was a void, and he smiled as though nothing had occurred.

Perhaps it was fear of death that caused this past Glen to act so foolishly? It was often the cause of other's rash actions. With those Jack left behind, their fear had been his last memory of them.

Jack's thoughts were still disconnected, but slowly he readjusted to this new crime as he had done with all the others. After all, it had been in progress for quite some time.

The Intention ought to be of help to him, too. He'd always preferred her.  
The Glen in his naivety had even given him permission, he recalled.  
Though, Jack had to wonder what Levi thought this mask's wish had been.

.

.

.  
That fateful afternoon, he didn't use the secret passage. It was already serving its purpose for someone else.  
Glen wouldn't notice his loyal Nightray friend was missing, since they were supposed to see each other after the ceremony ended, anyway.  
Miranda was useful, and it was all too easy.  
The children, too, were useful.  
But it was not so simple.

Soon he hid his secret under the billows of that tie, the mark on his breast.  
He sought out that human barrier and reproached him without a single care.

His hurt cry called out to the shade that Glen could see in the distance, invading the city as the sky darkened.  
Jack didn't care that Glen despised him either, even as his once quiet voice roared like the inferno behind them.  
Shock was only in his mask.  
Nothing mattered.  
But then why were clear tracks pooling over his eyes?

Footsteps suddenly picked in Glen's ears, clear as they moved quickly past the scenes of grime and death. And Jack wasn't so far gone that he couldn't hear the fear in the small footsteps. A single plea was heard over and over again, coming closer.

Glen's eyes looked to Jack as his eyes raised again. Jack was still standing, ready to attack him even as the child made his way towards the room where they were concealed.  
He watched Jack's eyes, which had once been the green of life. Once happy and beautiful, they were lightened by the sun and reflecting the leaves above them.  
He still heard Jack's chuckle under his ear, and the soft touch of his hands to his chest as he tried to push him away.

Jack had tried again and again, with no hope of ever escaping, and he'd never cared that he didn't.  
Bright, beautiful, and radiant. A flawless performance.

.  
Glen held back for that long moment, though he knew he could kill him.  
The footsteps were drawing closer, and the room smelled of the blood that clung to Jack's clothes and hung in the lower strands of his braid.  
The eyes, beautiful and brilliant as they were, had never held that which he longed to recover.  
Jack and Lacie had been killed at once.  
He had been dragged into the abyss with her.  
He was now held by chains and void of breath, now stained in red and prepared to die.

Glen hesitated though his hands shook. Jack's eyes held.

They heard the steps coming now. The child ran towards them. Finally seeing Jack, finally seeing his master.

"Stop it!"  
Gilbert screamed, not even caring that both men had their swords drawn.  
He was oblivious to Jack's brutality.  
Jack took the only option afforded to him as the servant barreled towards his master at full speed, ready to stop them. And he was able to stop him.  
The wrong him.

Glen was too late, he knew. The warning came clear out of his lips as the child advanced, but Jack's blade had already hit Gilbert before he could stop him.

"Don't come any closer, Gilbert!"

He heard the child's skull hit the floor, the bundle suddenly falling in horrific pain at Jack's feet.  
His own child.  
Glen suddenly recalled the song she sang, and it wound in him and wounded him.  
Those green eyes stared back at him, the cheerfulness stinging in his tears.  
They fell faster now, impatient.  
He knew what he wanted, and no reason was offered to turn back.  
Void of reason, the song turned again like a rewound music box, dripping red and turning dark with the burning flames.  
His eyes glared ahead as he realized the reason Jack's bright eyes were empty and his threat was crazed.

The small child reached for Glen, lying between the two deaths.  
Though Gilbert was invariably the only one left to his master, the rest swallowed in wretched flames by the Abyss, all his love was about to die regardless.

Though his child was held ransom, he had a job to finish.

Glen suddenly leapt forward, drawing the sword first, as he never had. Using all that remained of his power, he was certain his fatal hit wouldn't miss.

The last stains of light drained from the sky, crippled and low, as the room faded to the gold of the candles, lightening the blood around him as he swung at Jack's chest.

Though something broke his sword as a smile spread across Jack's lips, and a shattering pain was felt flaring up across his ribs.

The radiant fire around them lightened the gold of Jack's hair, which glittered in everlasting joy at his thigh, as others were drawn to their deaths by the sound.  
Pain was around them forevermore.

_  
/Afterword.

 _"Oz, you were right."  
._  
Tears dripped down his cheeks as he was captivated by that golden light, the streams echoing the tears he'd felt before. He couldn't detect their source even now, a full century later.  
How could he have been so foolish?  
Those that he should have cherished were out of his grasp forever.  
And yet, he had never resolved who he cherished.  
And though he did awful things, was he truly an awful person?  
Oz seemed to think so. But words lost their sting after being heard so often.  
He could feel what little energy he had left dissolving away to cold… It was a feeling he'd felt once already, his fragile soul had disappeared in the frigid winter before. He recognized it simmering now.  
He wasn't as afraid as he once was. It was familiar… And justified.  
He still smiled radiantly, though the swirling light around him would be his last memory.  
He told them that truth with a light voice, appearing to have no regrets in his conscience.

It had all been inevitable.

The girl who declared that she loved his monstrous soul would live another life with the others. At least that sweet child was never going to be alone again.  
Due to his own desires, Oswald was dead, and like his sister Lacie he would never be a part of that blissful world again.  
The executioner and his sibling victim.  
And finally the traitor.  
It was time he joined them.

Oz was still naïve, offering hope when there was none. Even though his lifetime as Oz, too, was over.  
He smiled slightly at his replacement's last concern.  
Hadn't that chain said he'd hated him?

He smiled as he made an equally altered decision like his previous, with only this chance to do so.  
And basking in the swirling radiant light, the perfect beauty of a dancing, sparkling sky, he smiled at those who hated him.  
A lie and a truth, in that last pure light-

.  
 _Lacie._

.

(Peractio.)


End file.
